With Friends Like These
by 420andbeautifulwords
Summary: <html><head></head>'You're wasting your time, no one cares,' that was Daryl Dixon's view on my Journal. Well, that was his view on everything. But I wanted it to be written, it was almost therapeutic in a way. The world was falling to pieces and I would record it while I fell to pieces too.</html>


WELCOME TO MY BABY! Please review! This is my first time posting, and I wanted to test out the waters on an idea of mine I've had for a long time! I hope you enjoy, a small teaser!

Prologue: Living on Hope

There are never any proper words you can say to someone after their immediate family dies, there isn't anything. They told me it was quick, a head on collision with a drunk driver. They were filed as DOA.

'Sorry', doesn't **do** anything, it just makes you feel even more like a sack of shit than you already do for even being around that person, and feeling their lives completely go to hell in front of you.

But we all say it anyway, we are slaves to our empathy.

'I'm so sorry for your loss', 'I'm sorry about your family', 'Oh, you poor girl', 'How horrible!' 'Lucky you were at home!'

It's like a tic we all have, to apologize to other people for their misfortunes in life. Even if we haven't caused it.

I guess that's why the sickness never bothered me. I was lucky enough to have everything I loved taken away from me before the Eaters came.

I am lucky to be alive, still. And after what has felt like years pass by in these cold days, I still survive. I am here.

Whatever the fuck 'here' is.

**Entry: #76**

**February 16****th****, 2012**

_Dear Journal,_

_I've finished my patrol of 'ROCK FM'S: RADIO SHAQ', finally. _

_I don't know why we have to do this 24/7. The Walkers don't come out this far, the tower is located 6 miles from the closest house. And whoever has been here, had already raided the vending machines. So fuck them._

_But whatever, I don't make the rules, I just follow them._

_It's boring out here, but at least we're safe._

_Cities have become polluted with the worst dangers, every corner a home to the scavenging skeletons that prey for warm flesh, towns have become nameless, the oceans are quiet and homes lay on wastelands. Open for all, most have been picked to the bone for anything that can be used for survival. _

_The world is now filled with a constant drone. Always playing on one note._

_Death._

_I don't know how long our food supplies can last, we have: three cans of beans left, one carrot that looks like a crooked, flaccid penis, an onion and 6 sticks of beef jerky from the G.A.S station from the last raid we did in town!_

_Mitch says that we can rashen out enough for the four of us for the next day or two, but Fowley eats like a pig, and I'm fucking sick of eating Mexican beans._

_No news so far on the radios. Mauve sits up in the tower for hours on end, turning the same dials, hearing the same static noise. _

'_Living on hope she is,' my Mama would have said. As her blonde wig would shake from side to side, a stern line would have taken place of her lips when she would be upset at someone. She was always animated! She was beautiful._

_We haven't seen any others. The town has been completely empty from 'real people' since we arrived 2 weeks ago. No signs of life unless it wants to rip your throat out! Sadly. But the towns almost cleaned out, we have the West side left which is mainly industrial._

_Mitch is also teaching me how to use knives in far combat. He says my will is strong, but my technique needs work. Pff. _

_He says I'll get there with practice, maybe then I can throw one at Fowley's head when he tries to make his meal portions bigger! HA!_

_Mitch says we need to do a few more raids, find a new engine for the truck, and then we can make plans on where we want to go from here. _

_Fowley thinks Atlanta has hope._

_Mauve says it's a suicide mission. _

_Secretly, I hope Fowley is right. I'll live on hope if it keeps me alive._

_Otherwise we might as well give up, right?_

_And who knows, we might find another group along the way to help us? Worth a try I guess. Nothing left to lose._

_I better get going, this pen is running out of ink and I'm running out of energy._

_Write to you again if I wake up tomorrow. Goodnight x_

_-T_


End file.
